


A Ghost of a Smile

by missmichellebelle



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Fluff, Ghosts, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-09 09:17:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I've been longing for<br/>Daisies to push through the floor<br/>And I wish plant life<br/>Would grow all around me<br/>So I won't feel dead anymore</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Ghost of a Smile

**Author's Note:**

> ["Plant Life" - Owl City](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=62kir745DKU)  
>       prompted by _roblaine_

_I've been longing for_  
 _Daisies to push through the floor_  
 _And I wish plant life_  
 _Would grow all around me  
_ _So I won't feel dead anymore_

*

In retrospect, their story doesn't start with anything amazing.

A group of kids standing outside of Blaine's house as he watches from the window. One of them will come in, he knows, because one always does. They'll come in, they'll get scared, and they'll leave. And it will just be Blaine and his house again, just like it's always been.

So he watches, like he always does, as the crowd grows loud and rallies until someone is pinched off the group and urged forward. It's a boy, a beautiful boy, and he's shaking as he walks closer.

Blaine knows he'll run, just like all of the others.

Maybe that's where their story gets amazing. Because Blaine is a ghost, and when the boy, Kurt, looks straight at him, he doesn't run away.

*

Blaine doesn't remember how he died. He doesn't know how old he is, or how long he's been in his house, just that he's always been there, just him.

He tells Kurt he doesn't mean for the house to be scary, but, being a ghost, it's hard to make repairs.

Kurt finds this incredibly funny.

He asks Blaine about his life, but Blaine doesn't remember much about it. It's bits and pieces, a kaleidoscope of memory fragments that are distorted and don't make sense when he tries to think of them. He remembers how the sun felt on the back of his hand, or how chocolate tastes, or that he loves music. But he doesn't remember his parents, or school, or what Christmas is.

When he says things like that, Kurt always sets his hand right where Blaine's is. Blaine passes right through him, and Kurt's skin prickles with goosebumps, but he doesn't move it.

"What are you doing?" Blaine asks him one time, because he doesn't understand, and Kurt looks at him. There's something in his eyes, but Blaine doesn't know what it is.

He's been alone for a very long time.

"I'm holding your hand," Kurt tells him, and he smiles, so Blaine smiles back.

He'd forgotten smiling, and laughing, and stories. He'd forgotten hand holding. But Kurt makes him remember.

Blaine decides he likes it.

*

Kurt cleans the house slowly. He brings in vases of flowers, and curtains, and fixes the windows so that they hang right and don't creak when the wind blows. The sun comes in, flaring through crystals Kurt hung in their path and streaking rainbows in every direction.

Blaine had forgotten happiness, and flowers. He'd forgotten that existence isn't just darkness and loneliness, but that there can be light, and friendship.

Kurt makes him remember.

*

"What's it like?" Blaine asks. Kurt does his homework there, curled up on the special chair he brought. Blaine doesn't know where the stuff comes from, and he doesn't ask. Kurt always brings it with a smile, his voice excited, and that's enough for Blaine. It's enough, if it makes Kurt so happy.

"Hmm?" Kurt looks over at Blaine, the sun catching on his profile.

Blaine had forgotten beauty.

Kurt makes him remember.

"Life," Blaine whispers, and Kurt's expression changes. Blaine knows them now, a little. He knows this one is sad. He wishes he could reach out and touch, console—things he hasn't felt in a long time, the same way he's never felt this yearning or this ache. Kurt teaches him a lot of things. Not all of them are good.

"Oh Blaine…" Kurt moves toward him, and sets their hands together. Blaine looks down at them, where his translucent fingers lap with Kurt's solid ones. Their hands are different sizes, but it still seems like it  _fits_  somehow.

"It's not that great," Kurt finally says, voice quiet. Blaine waits. "I mean, I'm sure it is, but right now… It's hard."

Kurt has told him about his life before. It's been a long time since Kurt first came into Blaine's house (Kurt says years, but actual time doesn't make sense anymore—there's a long time and a short time and nothing else), and Blaine has seen Kurt's life. He sees it through Kurt's silences, the way his shoulders slump, the redness around his eyes.

Blaine had no one before Kurt, and maybe Kurt had no one before him, too. Maybe Kurt needed Blaine just as badly as Blaine needed him.

*

Blaine's never known Kurt, so he can't remember him.

So he learns Kurt instead, and it feels like remembering, anyway.

*

"I wish you were real," Kurt whispers one day, and Blaine is sure that if he could shatter into a hundred pieces, he would (heartbreak). "I wish you were alive. I wish I could touch you, and hug you, and take you out of this house. I want you to have a life, so we can share them together."

Blaine doesn't know what to do, or what to say. Kurt's eyes are glassy, and Blaine knows he's going to cry. But he can't do anything. All his fingertips do are give Kurt goosebumps.

"Me too," is what he says, because it's all he can say. And it's true. He wants those things. He wants to give Kurt whatever  _he_  wants.

Kurt stares at him, and lifts his hand to Blaine's face. It would pass through, but he holds it as if he can touch Blaine. Like Blaine  _is_  real.

"I'm in love with you," Kurt says through a sad smile.

*

Blaine wakes up.

That's when he knows something is different.

He's substantial. He's solid. He can feel the couch beneath him, can feel the touch of a slight breeze to his skin.

"Blaine?"

He can feel Kurt's hand on the skin of his face.

"What happened?"

And Blaine doesn't know. He doesn't know, and he doesn't care. He sits up—because he  _can_ —and lifts up his hand to stare at it.

"Is this really happening?" Kurt asks, and he's crying again. This time, this time, Blaine reaches out and catches the tears. Maybe it shouldn't make him smile, but it does.

"I don't know," Blaine finally says, but he doesn't want to question it. "We… Let's go outside?"

Blaine doesn't even know what outside is like, but Kurt chokes out a laugh. He's smiling, and Blaine did that.

"Okay." He holds out his hand, and Blaine presses his against it. But Kurt slots their fingers together until their hands are locked, and Blaine stares. They've never done this before. They've never been  _able_  to do this before. "Holding hands," Kurt tells him, and giggles.

"I like it." Blaine looks up from their hands and looks at Kurt. "I love you."

Kurt laughs again, and for the first time in a very long time, Blaine leaves his house.

*

Blaine didn't remember how it felt to be alive.

Kurt taught him.

Now, they learn together.

*

_If I were to pluck on your heart strings_   
_Would you strum on mine?_


End file.
